


Wicked and Worn

by Jokie



Category: Bandom, Megadeth, Metallica
Genre: Alternative universe - pimp/ rent boy Klars + cop James+mob Dave, M/M, cop James and mob Dave, mention of drug use, mention of past non-con, pimp Kirk and rent boy Lars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-05-05 19:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14625051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokie/pseuds/Jokie
Summary: This is an AU based on few Load-era photos, you know those pics with a pimp daddy looking Kirk and rent boy looking Lars. I was talking about these pics with a friend and got the idea of this little smut with a complete storyline





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost,I mean no harm to any of the band members and don't own any of them, what happened in this fic is totally fictional and for fun only. Please don't sue me.
> 
> This is an AU based on few Load-era photos, you know those pics with a pimp daddy looking Kirk and rent boy looking Lars. I was talking about these pics with a friend and got the idea of this little smut with a complete story line.  
> So to make it quick, this AU set in the late 90s, all the characters looked like themselves in Load-era, James and Jason are cops and Dave is a leader of a gang. James, Lars and Dave used to be best friends back in high school, and Klars' in a relationship.  
> BIG THANKS for Tumblr user bigbadroman's beta work, honestly with the huge amount of typos and grammar errors, I don't know how I can ever post anything without her hard work.  
> And enjoy :P

**Prologue**

 

 

 

People change, Dave says, we all change.  
James doesn’t like the idea though, he wishes things could stay the same. Because if things stayed the same he’d be happier, they’d be fine, they’d stay friends and Lars would be happy.  
Somewhere in his mind he wonders: if at some point one of them had made the right choice, would this note still be here? Would have Lars stayed?  
But right now, Lars’ handwriting on a wrinkled note in his hand says “please don’t try to find me, I can’t live like this anymore”, and it breaks his heart. Judging from Dave’s look, his heart is not that complete either.  
His mind goes back to 10 years before, when they were just kids in high school, lying on Lars’ bedroom carpet listening to Sabbath and dreaming about the future. They used to talk about forming a band, and they almost did it. Then life took a left turn and it didn’t happen.  
James wonders if things could have gone better, had one of them got the courage to tell Lars their feelings back then. He wonders if Lars would have been with one of them and be protected so he wouldn’t get hurt by the world like cruel reality did. Or if it would have all been the same, and he would have still got hurt, by one of them, by all of them, and by a different kind of reality.

 

 

 

 

1

 

 

At first, neither of them had thought it would have been that hard.  
They still had some stash as a gift for their “hard work” when they got out of the Wicked House together, but day by day the bag of cocaine had started disappearing little by little, and neither of them had really gotten rid of the addiction like they had originally planned.  
Yeah, they once used to have a plan, when they were in the Wicked together. The plan was good, it was dreamy, it had a warm color and smelt like forever happily after. They would have got outta that place together and never taken dicks for cocaine ever again. They would have found a nice house with a big kitchen and they would have cooked each other breakfast. They would have got a dog, named it Tippy. They would have been happy.  
The plan had shuttered into pieces on the third out-of-gear day. Kirk thought he was going to die and told Lars he wished to die , ‘cause living like that was more than he could take.  
“Calm down, I’ll get you some, just wait for me at home.”  
Lars told Kirk before he headed out, no idea where to and how to get Kirk some cocaine. But he headed out anyway.  
He was fortunate enough to bump into one of the usual customers around the old street where the Wicked used to be, and the man recognized him.  
“Lars, where have you been this whole time?”  
He seemed pleased to see Lars, so Lars smiled back at him.  
After a short exchange of small talk, Lars followed the guy to his apartment. They fucked twice that night, and it was not that different from being used in the Wicked, but not the same either.  
It has never been his choice at the Wicked, never his place to decide, and he used to think everything would have gone back to normal the day they got free. But there he was, bending over on a stranger’s bed of his own free will, with the purpose of getting drugs.  
And he did get them that day. He was really lucky because that very customer happened to have some cocaine to spare and he really liked Lars.  
He did some coke with the guy after the first fuck. He felt better after the first round, and the guilt started to fade when the drug hit him. And the second fuck was fantastic, he was high and happy, the guilt was gone and the pleasure remained. He felt good. He liked it. For the first time in his horrible free life, there was no pain, only pleasure.  
When it was over, that guy asked him if he still took the usual price. Lars hesitated and asked him how much he was willing to pay, because he didn’t want that guy to know that he had never received money back in the house.  
Four hundred’s bit too much for him to handle, that guy said, he wanted a discount, since he had shared with Lars some of his cocaine. Lars was shocked when he realized how happy he was to hear he was worth that much money, and told him it was on the house if he could have more cocaine.  
That’s how he successfully fulfilled his promise that day, and Kirk got his dose before he’d lose his mind.

Eventually they both understood this was their new life now, and the good thing was they still got each other. People started to recognize them as solo workers, and they had a name. Kirk started to have his own cocaine business and Lars started to think his life had a purpose.  
The old life they once had was far gone, and Lars felt rather scared when he thought about sunlight, school life and old friends. He didn’t even know how to live like that anymore, people living in the daylight would have hated them, they wouldn’t have accepted them, they would have hurt them. And what they had, nobody could have ever understood, they would have thought they were bad people. Rotten apples.  
But what they had was good, was fun and safe, it was working and functioning in its own twisted way. Kirk knew him and loved him, he understood him and always gave him what he wanted. They looked after each other, they got each other high and happy, and Kirk would have never hurt him as long as life continued.  
People sometimes mocked them, calling Kirk his Pimp boyfriend and laughing. So they laughed along with them, because they didn’t give a fuck. They even started to dress like pimp and rent boy, gave them what they wanted and didn’t explain shit.  
Those strangers just couldn’t understand, and they would have never understood; they didn’t know shit and they could all go fuck themselves.  
Lars knew Kirk cared for him, ‘cause he never allowed any of those freaks that once had hurt him back in the house to get near him again. He carefully chose the ones Lars liked to fuck him, aware that Lars had a type, the kind that could use him senseless, all rough and tough.  
When the two of them had sex though, it was never rough. They kissed too much during their own love making. Like toddlers, they giggled and cuddled, they said I love you thousand times until they got tired and fell asleep together.  
And that was their way now, with all the ups and downs. They would have been fine, as long as they had each other, as long as they could still take it. It was the new normal, care-free and fun; it was pure pleasure and it would have been alright.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks for tumblr user Bigbadroman’s beta work!  
> Enjoy!

It was one of the usual days, one of the roughest customers with a public exposure kink. With a price tag way higher than most rent boys in the neighborhood and a boyfriend influential enough to provide a better accommodation, it was quite bizarre that Lars would agree to be pinned to the wall in a dirty alleyway.  
But it’s okay, 'cause he’s in the mood for something dirty, something dangerous. Just like with the drugs they were taking, the usual stuff always fades away easily; life in the dark needs more than just a small dose of cheap cocaine. Eventually, they all need something heavier, something... more.  
So he had agreed to be taken to the dirty alley next to a giant garbage can, palms on the wall, feeling the bullet holes on that surface and the rough touch on his body. That guy, Brodie or Brad, or something like that, breathed heavily behind him, thrusting into him like a dog in heat. He moaned in a series of vowels, and men loved his foreign accent when he did that. Everybody knew about him, the little Danish rent boy with a tight ass and talented motormouth.  
When he felt cum filling up his ass he sighed with disappointment. That was quick. Brodie or Brad, whatever his name was, who used to be one of the roughest and toughest customers, who used to be one of his favorites, now was just human scum with poor sex ability.  
Lars hated the nasty feeling inside him, he liked the process of sex but never enjoyed that he had to clean up after.  
In the middle of that thought, he heard Brodie or Brad saying something through his heavy panting, sounded like he wanted Lars to say his name or something. But Lars couldn't even remember his name, so he didn’t speak at all.  
Brodie or Brad, one of those names, yelled in anger, cursing Lars for being a thankless little whore. He suddenly wrapped a hand around his neck, trying to choke the life out of him. Soon Lars couldn’t breathe, started coughing. He tried to struggle but in vain, as the other man was taller and stronger.  
"So this is how it’s gonna end," he thought to himself in his fucked up mind, "male prostitute found dead in one of the dirty alleys of Los Angeles ."  
Would anyone miss him?  
Would Kirk be sad for him, would he feel lonely 'cause he’d be all alone without him? And James, and Dave, would any of his old best friends even know that he died? When one of them read the daily newspapers while having their breakfast, would they notice a tiny section with his name on it saying he’s dead?  
Just when he was about to give up on this fucked up life, heading to the blinding light of afterlife, he heard the sound of gunshots, and Brodie or Brad’s hands let him go.  
Air filled his lungs again, all at once.  
“Hey, hey! Are you okay?”  
He heard someone calling him and, struggling to stand up, he saw Brodie or Brad – one of those stupid names – dead on the floor. Died from trying to kill a cocaine slut, with a spent dick. Guess someone had a worse day than him, Lars thought to himself.  
“I’m alright.” He tried to read his savior’s name on his LAPD badge. “Officer Newsted.”  
“Take this, cover yourself.” Newsted said, and handed him a blanket, a slightly disgusted tone in his voice.  
‘One of those people living in the daylight,’ Lars thought, ‘he hates me’. He took the blanket anyway and proceeded to cover his bruised and cum stained body.  
Newsted called a number, noticed his colleagues their location and told Lars to get in the car.  
“I can get home on my own, officer. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”  
Lars strived to sound smart and sneaky, but his voice obviously came out shaky and cracked from the near death experience.  
“Shut up and get in.” Newsted shot back, in a not very friendly tone. “You are under arrest.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been 10 years since James last saw Lars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put a lot of thoughts in this AU, it’s still smut but I hope I can deliver a good story line too. Also my friend Fran helped me a lot with beta-reading, she’s amazing! :) and id love to hear your comments Enjoy

3  
James Hetfield was still having a severe hangover that morning. He wore a pair of sunglasses to cover his eyes from the blinding lights in the LAPD office and had a monster size black coffee in his hand. He didn't really want to deal with anything work related at that moment, but the pile of documents on his desk imposed otherwise.

Reluctantly, James went through the first few document papers on his desk and saw a report from Jason, something about a male prostitute and a dead body. He sighed with frustration, a fucking dead body, on a hangover morning, just great.

“Newkid, bring your ass over here and explain this fat dead body.” He yelled through the communication channel and started to read the report.

It had happened the night before, when Jason was on duty. He’d driven through one of the fag streets and the not so dead yet guy was choking some homo whore to death. Jason had warned the now already dead guy a few times but he didn’t stop, so Jason had shot him and now he was dead.

Jason rushed to his office in less than a minute.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve told you this, but how hard is it to understand four simple English words?” James yelled to Jason's face. “NO MORE DEAD BODIES!”

“I warned him.” Jason said, and it sounded more like a statement than an explanation. “And that Danish kid looked like he was about to kick the bucket. It was either that scumbag or the Danish kid, and I know how much you hated to deal with foreigners.”

“Shut the fuck up, you didn’t know he was Danish when you shot that fat fuck.” James yelled back. “You just wanted to shoot people, you twisted fuck.”

“Well, turned out he’s indeed Danish and I just saved you from dealing with some north European shit. I believe the word you are looking for is ‘thank you, Jason’.”

“Fuck off.” James rolled his eyes and took a sip of his black coffee. “Now let’s go see this Danish kid you’re talking about.”

“Sure.” Jason took the lead, heading to the interrogation room.

“About the Danish kid, he’s not really a kid, right ?” James figured Jason wouldn’t have used that taunting tone if that kid was really a minor.

“He’s not. In fact, he’s about your age.” Jason answered. “Thirty-fucking - three years old, can you believe that, with a baby face that can have him easily mistaken for a twink in his twenties.”

“You sound fucking gay when you say ‘twink’, Newfag.”

Jason ignored James and kept talking. “And he wore makeup, fucking eyeliner and lip gloss. I’m telling ya, he’s a fucking slut. Had to keep him in a separate room 'cause the guys were all looking at him like he's a piece of meat.”

“Well, you can really take the gay contents to the next level. I’m impressed, Newkid.”

“See it yourself, see if you can come up with any heterosexual comment once you see that Danish kid.” Jason said, stood before the iron door of the interrogation room and opened it.

Lars was still asleep on the bench, all wrapped in a blanket, when Jason gave him a little push on the shoulder. He woke up suddenly, and realized it was daytime. It was fucking daytime and he was exposed in daylight, judged by some daytime people in uniforms. He felt embarrassed, he hated it. The room smelt like sweat and cum, and Lars couldn’t help but feel ashamed to be responsible for it.

“Wake up, sleepy one, it’s time to save the world.”

“The fuck is that?” James frowned at Jason’s random gibberish.

The blonde noticed that Danish kid almost jumped a little from where he was sitting when he heard his voice, and was now looking as frightened as ever, like he’d seen a ghost. He wrapped himself in the blanket even more, as if he was afraid of the light or something. James didn’t get to see his face but – judging by the small frame – it made sense Jason had called him ‘kid’.

“Get up.” Jason coldly commanded. “Just a couple questions and few sheets to fill, then you can go.”

Lars didn't move.

“What’s the matter? You were not this quiet last night.” Jason asked, then realized it was probably James' presence that made Lars retreat into silence.

In Lars' head he’s in shock. It’s impossible. It’s not right. He was not supposed to see James anymore, people from the daylight and people like him weren’t supposed to meet again.

And James hadn’t seen him in almost 10 years. The last time they had been together was the day he had graduated from high school, when he had introduced Kirk to Dave and James, and told them his plan of getting into music academy with Kirk.

No, it’s not right.

They weren’t supposed to be in each other’s presence anymore. All Lars could think of was what James’ gonna think of him once he revealed his true color – stained from a dead man's cum, melted eyeliner on his spent face, and smelling like a cheap whore, which was actually a valid way to describe him.

Jason finally ran out of his last remaining patience and dragged Lars up from the bench. Pushed him to a sitting position on the chair in front of the desk. Lars still made no sound.

James asked him if he’s cold because he was shivering violently, but he didn’t speak, so James went out to get him a glass of hot water anyway. Just as soon as James stepped out of the door, Jason was startled to hear Lars speak in such a frantic voice, like he’s about to break.

“Please, let me go. Please, I beg you, please don’t let him come back in here.”

“Him? You mean Hetfield?”

“Yes, just don’t let him see me, please.”

“It’s not really up to me.” Jason shrugged “And believe me, as scary as he looks, he’s actually the good cop in this partnership.”

“I don’t care, just don’t let him come back here, just don’t, please, I’ll do anything.”

He’s almost in tears, which was very different from the mouthy brat of the day before. Jason couldn’t help but think maybe he knew James, but how could he? How come that Danish rent boy had a connection with the most respected detective in the department?

Whatever the reason was, Jason thought to himself, maybe just like the kid said, it would have been better if James didn’t see him. Just as Jason was beginning to get moved by the whole situation, it already was too late. James came back with the glass of water, and he saw Lars.

He saw Lars and he recognized him.

It’s been a decade since James Hetfield last saw Lars Ulrich. The day they said goodbye was a warm sunny day, people were laughing and congratulating each other, giving each other hugs and gifts and good wishes.

He had hugged Lars so hard, Lars had joked about how James was suffocating him with his hug. He had wished Lars the best. He had wished for his dream to come true. He had said it with a bittersweet voice though, cause he knew his own dream had been shattered on that very same day.

He had watched Lars smile like the happiest person around Kirk. And he had watched them just go. Disappear. Then he’d realized he had to walk away from their lives. Because he had loved Lars for the entire high school years and now he was with another man. Because James had been such a coward himself. Because he had missed every opportunity to tell him about his feelings.

He used to think he’d forget about Lars quickly. He tried to convince himself that it was just a phase, that he would eventually get over Lars and it would all be alright. But just the night before, as he was drinking himself to sleep because somehow he thought about Lars again, he had wished he could forget his face.

But he’s here now. And James recognized him. Even with his long brown curls cut short, the smeared eyeliner on his face, his lips swollen from brutal kisses and his little frame smelling of cum, like a slut.

Still the second James saw him – from behind his dark sunglasses – blue eyes found Lars, and in his hungover head he just knew it was him.

Anger, the first thing he felt.

He was furious. The glass got smashed against the wall, the water painting silent tears on the plaster.

“Out.” James told Jason, flames burning in his darkened eyes. “Leave us.”

Jason tried to say something, but eventually didn’t. Like he had feared, the Danish kid knew James, and they were definitely more than just acquaintances. He gave James a mixed look before stepping out the door, and left the interrogation room without a word.

The air in the interrogation room was thick, heavy, and for quite a while neither James nor Lars said a word. The broken glasses on the floor glittered from the dim lights on the ceiling.

“Stay here.” James said to Lars, then headed out to get him another glass of water and a wet towel.

When James got back into the room Lars wasn’t in the blanket anymore. James handed him the second glass of warm water and the towel.

“Wipe that shit off your face.”

So Lars did, and cleaned his face using the wet towel James handed him. Off with the smudgy eyeliner and other shit on his face, when Lars tilted his head up to face James once again, James finally saw the green eyes he remembered. But that pair of green eyes once crystal clean, were now full of fear and pain.

“Now talk to me, Lars.”

“About what?” Lars said with a dry laugh coming from his throat. “James, what you see is what I do, I have nothing to explain really.”

“What about your dream? What about music? What about your silly lover boy Kirk ?” James tried not to sound too aggressive, but he couldn’t control his anger. “You’re supposed to be happy.”

“What makes you think I’m not happy.”

“Happy? Are you happy looking like this? My god, have you looked at yourself in the mirror? You look like a...”

“Like a what?” Lars laughed again. “ Like a whore? Because that’s exactly what I am.”

He knew it, he had seen this coming. James was judging him like all the daytime people. James hated him. James couldn’t understand.

“Go on, go ask officer Newsted what I was doing before he shot that fat guy. He’ll tell you all.”

“No, I won’t.” James grabbed his hand and dragged him up from the chair. “‘Cause he doesn’t remember shit about you, he won’t remember shit about you, he didn’t even see you anywhere cause you are coming home with me until I figure out who the fuck are you and what did you do to my Lars.”

When James dragged Lars all the way from the interrogation room to his car, nobody said nothing about it. Once he was seated behind the steering wheel, he called Jason, told him to erase everything he had reported about Lars. He knew Jason would do exactly as he said.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James decided Lars need to be cleaned. Completely and Throughly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys for the comments:) Really encouraged me to continue this! Still big big thanks for Fran’s beta work! Now Enjoy! Btw this chap Is. Very *NSFW* Now enjoy ;)

4  
James drove home and shove Lars in, the smaller Dane stumbling a few steps until he fell on the couch placed in the living room. James’ apartment smelt like booze and pizza, smelt like a single thirty-year-old cop. He had tried to contain his anger while he was driving, Lars had tried to ask him to let him go but James had ignored him, and had Lars stopped asking after the third try.

Now that his fury finally tapered off, he felt sad and confused, but most importantly still angry. He shoved Lars one more time so he wouldn’t try to get up from the couch. The next move he made was peeling the sweaty see-through shirt Lars was wearing off him, then the tight leather pants. Lars quietly let James strip him of his clothing, with a numbing look on his face, like he’s lost. Soon he was naked in front of James, and just like he had feared, now there’s nothing on him to hide the ugly truth.  
James gave Lars’ naked body a quick glance, but Lars couldn’t tell whether there was pity or disgust in James’ eyes. James grabbed Lars by his hand dragging him up from the couch, carried him to his bathroom, put him into his bathtub then turned the water on.

For a while, neither of them said anything, the only sound in the bathroom the one of running water. Slowly, hot water gathered around Lars until he was dipped from shoulder to toe. It felt good, Lars thought to himself, a different kind of good, like a warm old memory.

James stood up to grab a sponge from his shelf, Lars watched him put soap on it and return to sit on a stool next to the tub. He felt the soft sponge touch his skin, James was cleansing his sore limbs and Lars quietly let him do that. The sponge gently scrubbed the dirt and cum stain on his body, stroking his skin, washing him clean.

Then the hand stopped.

James didn’t notice that tiny silver ring when they were in the living room, but now he saw it and felt it, that evil glimmering little thing. That tiny silver ring pierced through one of Lars’ nipples, floating a little in the bathtub water, leaving a twisted shadow on his skin. He tried to ignore it, tried to not look at it. His hand holding the sponge brushed across, a gentle stroke like nothing’s there, and Lars shivered under that touch.

James was amazed yet sad for it, for how much Lars’ body changed. He was still tiny, still skinny, still pale yet different. He looked older, more mature, with bruises clearly from sexual abuse and a body too sensitive to all the touches, craving all the touches.

He had seen Lars naked before, in the locker room during their high school years. Lars looked like a girl from behind, tiny frame and tiny shoulders, and James sometimes had had to go to the shower to calm himself down. He had dreamed about having that tiny frame underneath him, had wanted to have that body all to himself.

And now that he indeed had Lars naked and obedient in his bathtub, he felt sad. It’s not supposed to be sad, to have your dream finally come true.

He gestured at Lars to turn his body around and Lars obeyed, elbows resting on the edge of his bathtub revealing his naked back to James. There was the same amount of bruises on his back, and it got even more severe on his inner thighs and butt cheeks. James quietly cleaned his back, moving gently from there to his waist. He cleaned his legs then moved to his thighs. Lars spread his legs a little further apart so James could have a better access.

Then there’s this white stain. Then James remembered Lars saying “Ask officer Newsted what I was doing before he shot that guy”.

“Did he fuck you.” James asked, hands stopping above Lars’ waist.

“Who are you talking about?”

“That dead guy, did he fuck you?”

“Yes, he did.”

So James decided Lars needed to be cleaned thoroughly and completely, his hands moved from Lars’ waist back to his ass, spreading his cheeks, and he saw the evidence. That dead guy, he had indeed fucked Lars, and then he had died, shot by Jason. And Jason had brought Lars to the department, and now Lars’ here.

James let go of the sponge, let it float in the bathtub. One hand spreading Lars, the other pushed into his hole. Two of James’ fingers were in Lars now, something he dreamt about in his teenage years, but under different circumstances. This was supposed to feel good, and it sort of did, but it also felt sad, like very sad.

Lars bit his lips while James worked his fingers in and out of his body, feeling the dead guy’s dead cum finally out of him, feeling James’ long lean fingers touching and cleaning him inside. He couldn’t suppress all of his moans, so James heard it, and now James knew he’s turned on, James knew he could be turned on so easily like the little whore he knew he was. No shame, no guilt, just a body that’s used to and looked for sex and pleasure.

James felt Lars pushing back against his fingers, he felt Lars’ prostate. He tapped there twice and Lars almost screamed. Being Lars free of that dead guy’s cum, his insides felt so warm and nice at the touch, wrapping around James’ fingers like he wouldn’t let go.

James wondered if Lars’d do the same to his dick, if Lars would even scream his name had he buried his dick deep inside him. He pushed another finger in and worked Lars’ hole with a faster tempo to hear him moan shamelessly, and Lars started to tremble in the bathtub. That was not cleaning anymore and they both knew it; none of them said anything but they knew it.

James could feel his own erection starting to make his pants too tight, so he pushed his fingers all the way into Lars one more time, then pulled them all the way out. Still face down in his bathtub, Lars panted heavily, like a fish out of water. James spread his butt cheeks open to see his now cleaned hole, gaping from the fingering and desperately needing to be filled again.

James carried Lars out of the bathtub and wiped the water off his body with a clean towel, then dragged him to his bedroom. Lars allowed himself to be thrown on James’ bed, face down, on his stomach, and felt two hands on his ass cheeks spreading them; so he opened his legs further apart like the good little whore he knew he was.

James took off his own shirt, then unbuttoned his jeans, peeling them off along with his boxers. Lars could feel the heat radiating from James now naked and aroused body, his dick poking his ass and thighs as James kissed his back.

“I want to fuck you, Lars.” He heard James say.

“Fuck me.”

James was not happy with the answer.

“Do you want to get fucked?”

James kept kissing his back, nibbling the sensitive skin, one hand reaching for his chest the tiny silver ring. He gave that ring a little tug — the kind that’s between playful and painful — and was pleased to hear Lars’ breath becoming heavy and wet.

“Yes, please fuck me.” Lars said, desperately.

“Who’s going to fuck you Lars, tell me?”

“You are, James, please stop torturing me, James please.” Lars begged, like he’s about to cry. “Please, James. Please.”

He wiggled his ass to rub against James’ dick, and James liked it. He liked how Lars acted like a slut for him, for him only.

“Yes, it’s me, now I’m fucking you and I want you to remember this. I’m going to fuck all the other fuckers out of your little whore head, you hear that?” James said as he pushed into Lars, and Lars yelled in pleasure, screaming his name.

“I’m going to fuck you good, you hear that?” Said a pleased James.

He thrusted into Lars without mercy, knowing a slut and a professional who’s had his ass fucked by a thousand of dicks wouldn’t get hurt anyway. James enjoyed how Lars tightened around him, but he hated to think about how many other guys had felt the same warm heat. So he fucked him even harder, until he knew Lars had come at some point, cause he’d screamed so loud it had made his voice crack.

But James wouldn’t stop, not yet. He was determined to fuck him good, and this wasn’t good enough. So he fucked through Lars’ first orgasm, having him tremble around his dick like a rug doll. He fucked him to his second erection, stroking his dick when Lars begged him to, pulling his nipple ring to hear his painful yet pleasurable squeal.  
He squeezed his own balls to stop himself from coming, ’cause he was not ending this that soon, he had to give Lars a proper fuck.

Lars came even harder the second time, so much that his tired body couldn’t even support himself after the too intense second climax. So James had him turned over, Lars now facing him with legs up in the air, spread apart by James’ strong hands. He fucked into Lars the third time, kissing his mouth for the first. Lars’ slutty nature couldn’t resist, his dick dripped whenever James had his dick in his ass.

Lars started losing track of how many times he was coming that day, but he was sure the last few times his figure resembled the one of a lifeless doll. He couldn’t feel anything but James’ dick. He was being used good and he liked every minute of it.

James pushed his dick near Lars’ lips once he was finally sure Lars couldn’t come anymore .

“Open it, Lars.”

So Lars did, he opened his mouth and tasted James’ warm cum. He managed to swallow some, and the rest got spilled all over his lips and face and collarbones.

Before his mind drifted into darkness he heard James asking him who he belonged to. He said a name, but couldn’t remember whose name it was. Then he allowed himself to fall into the best sleep he had ever had in months.


End file.
